Courting Miss Hattie (31 page)

"I don't know how much time I have, how long I can hold out," she said, desperation evident in her voice.

"What are you talking about?" Reed asked, completely baffled.

"Reed, I can't wait any longer for you. I want to marry soon, this fall or sooner."

"Sweetheart, I'm sorry, but without Miss Hattie's land, there just isn't any way."

"There is a way!" she said resolutely. "There just has to be."

 
CHAPTER
 
16

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I
t was Thursday afternoon when Miss Hattie unexpectedly pulled her buggy into the yard at the Drayton place. Her typical smile was nowhere to be seen, and lines of worry were etched in her face.

In the two weeks since she'd agreed to marry
Ancil
, she'd gotten used to the idea of being somebody's wife, somebody's mother. She'd almost forgotten that she was the undesirable old maid, the woman nobody wanted. That memory had come home to roost that morning, and she'd decided the only way to deal with her doubts was to face them squarely.

The children hurried out into the yard. Little
Ada
called, "Miss Hattie! Miss Hattie!" as she waved the corncob doll Hattie had given her for her birthday just last week.

"Go get your daddy for me,
Ada
," she told the child, and watched her scamper off to the field. Her gaze fell on
Cyl
, whose expression was wary.

"What's happened?" the young girl asked, sidling up to the buggy. "What fool thing has Daddy done now?"

Hattie wanted to answer, "Nothing, nothing at all," but she was afraid that wasn't true.

Bessie Jane had arrived just after breakfast. Hattie had been more than a little surprised to see her drive up. She couldn't remember seeing the young woman out in a buggy unaccompanied.

"Has something happened?" she asked Bessie Jane anxiously. "Reed's raising the water level in the rice, but I can fetch him right away."

"Oh, no," Bessie Jane answered, glancing in the direction of Colfax Bluff. "I've come to talk to you, Miss Hattie. There are some things I think you ought to know."

Relieved but curious, Hattie invited the younger woman into the house for coffee.

"I'd prefer tea if you have it," Bessie Jane said.

Stoking up the fire, Hattie said, "I don't have a spot of tea on the place. Mama used to drink it, but I never cared for the stuff myself."

"Coffee is fine, then," Bessie Jane assured her.

Glancing at Reed's intended sitting so uneasily at the kitchen table with something clearly bothering her, Hattie was struck by her youth. She was really little more than a child. Idly she wondered if Bessie Jane was treated like a child because she persisted in acting like one or if she persisted in acting like a child because she was treated like one.

"I've got cool buttermilk if you want some," Hattie said.

"Buttermilk would be wonderful," the young woman replied, and Hattie poured her a tall glass before filling her own mug with coffee.

Seating herself at the table, Hattie watched Bessie Jane take a long appreciative drink of the buttermilk,
then
daintily wipe her mouth. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

Bessie Jane looked down, studying the checks in the tablecloth for a moment,
then
taking a deep breath for courage, she spoke. "I don't know if Reed has told you that our wedding has been postponed."

Hattie raised her eyebrows at the news. Reed had not breathed a word to her. "Why is that?" she asked. "Is there something wrong with the crop?" It was hard to imagine any other reason for a postponement.

Bessie Jane shook her head. "The crop is fine, and Reed is staying to finish it out, so you don't have to worry."

"'Finish
it out'?"

"Yes. He won't be leaving until after the cotton and rice are in."

"'Leaving.'" Hattie breathed the word in disbelief. "Reed is leaving?"

Nodding solemnly, Bessie Jane said, "I had a feeling you didn't know."

"Why would Reed leave here? This is the best piece of ground in the county, and he's always planned to build his rice crop here." Hattie groped for understanding. "Surely you're mistaken, Bessie Jane. What earthly reason would Reed Tyler have for leaving?"

Bessie Jane looked her straight in the eye. "Because
Ancil
Drayton told him that the Colfax Farm was not for sale."

Hattie stared at her, her mind
aswirl
with thoughts she couldn't control. "I don't believe it," she said finally.

Bessie Jane sat quietly for a moment,
then
said, "It's true." The young woman continued to talk, explaining Reed's plans, how he would try to start over again and how long it might take him to make a go of it. Hattie only half listened. Her ears heard every word, but her heart, her dreams, were drowning in unshed tears.

"Miss Hattie," Bessie Jane said, "Reed has every respect for you, and he wants you to be happy. So much so that he's willing to sacrifice our future so you can wed
Ancil
Drayton. If Mr. Drayton only wants you for your land
…
well, it hardly seems like it's worth it."

Hattie looked up sharply. The tactlessness of that last statement obviously surprised even Bessie Jane.

"I didn't mean that like it sounded," the younger woman said quickly, trying to take back the hurtful, unfeeling words.

Waving away her apology, Hattie forced a brave smile that didn't reach her eyes. "No use beating around the bush, Bessie Jane. You're absolutely right. If he only wants my land, I'd be a good deal better off without him." As she spoke, she hoped it was true.

They parted amiably, although Bessie Jane seemed a bit frightened. "I really shouldn't have told you," she said with sincerity.

"No, no, Bessie Jane. The truth is always the best. The Bible says it will set you free."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Bessie Jane replied with another nervous glance toward the bluff.

"Reed will never hear a word of this from me," Hattie said, understanding her concern. "This is between me and
Ancil
now, and no matter what happens
,
you and Reed are another matter entirely."

Bessie Jane began to cry. "You are too nice to me, Miss Hattie. I don't deserve it. I came out here knowing what I had to say was going to hurt you."

"You came out here to see me do right by your man," Hattie corrected her. "A woman goes as far as she has to on that account."

Now, sitting in her buggy in front of
Ancil
Drayton's house, Hattie wondered how far she would go. She didn't love
Ancil
, at least she knew that much. She wanted marriage and a family, and
Ancil
was a means to that end. If it was true that he only wanted her land, her heart wouldn't be broken. The injury to her pride, however, might be just as severe.

"He's done something to ruin it?"
Cyl's
words penetrated her thoughts, and she glanced down at the girl. The usually smiling mouth was drawn into a thin, angry line.

"I just want to talk to your father on some private business," Hattie said, hoping the words didn't sound as cold and hopeless as they felt.

"I knew it was too good to be true,"
Cyl
said, kicking the dust. "Figured he'd be bound to do something stupid before he managed to get you to the altar."

Hattie swallowed hard, her personal feelings warring with her loyalty to her intended and love for his children. "He hasn't done anything stupid,
Cyl
," she said finally. "You father is basically a good man who's lived a hard life. We have some disagreements about things. That's only human."

She saw
Ancil
walking in from the fields then,
Ada
hurrying at his side. His straw hat was worn and scraggly, his overalls were tattered, and he was covered in sweat and dirt. His face was dark as a thundercloud. "Take
Ada
and make yourself scarce," he said roughly to
Cyl
. The young girl stared at him defiantly for a moment,
then
with a glance at Hattie, she took her sister's hand and headed toward the barn.

Ancil
watched them go. When he turned his attention back to Hattie, looking up at her in her buggy, his expression was anything but welcoming. "You going to say your piece in the buggy," he asked, "or you coming down to sit on the porch?"

With only the slightest of hesitations, Hattie held out her hand, and he helped her down. They stepped up onto the front porch, seating themselves on a couple of milking stools that were the worse for wear.

"I'd offer you some lemonade," he said politely, "but I doubt if there is any. Mary Nell
don't
take to doing that sort of thing, and
Cyl
is too busy taking care of the animals like you taught her."

"She takes care of them by herself?"

"
Ada
helps her a bit, I suspect, but mostly it's her. She likes you a whole lot and wants you to be proud of her, I guess."

"Well, I am," Hattie said calmly. "She is a clever, loving little girl. I'm sure you and Lula have always been proud of her."

Ancil
rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I always wanted boys myself. Lula—hell, I don't know what she wanted or cared about. Don't imagine I ever asked her."

Hattie accepted this bit of telling information without comment. They sat quietly together for several minutes, each planning what to say.

Ancil
spoke first. "You come out here on your high horse about
something,
I guess you'd better spit it out."

She met his eyes bravely. "Did you tell Reed Tyler that I wouldn't be selling my farm?"

Ancil
pursed his lips and winced in self-disgust. "I
woulda
swore that boy wouldn't say a word to you about it."

"He didn't. Bessie Jane told me."

Ancil
sighed fatalistically. "I shouldn't have shot off my mouth like I did. I was feeling pretty good that night, and I guess I wanted to brag a little."

"You wanted to brag about marrying the best piece of bottomland in the county."

Straightening his shoulders at her sarcasm, he attempted to deal with her honestly. "It ain't that I got no feeling at all for you, Miss Hattie. I think you're a right fine lady, as decent and hardworking as any I know. And
you been
good to my
younguns
. That's a real mark in your favor."

"But," Hattie said, "all that is just gravy for you. What you really want is my farm, and you'd take me no matter what I was like to get it."

Ancil
hesitated only a moment. "It's a dandy little farm, Miss Hattie."

The sound of something crashing within the house startled them.
Ada
immediately fell out the front door,
Cyl
right behind her.